


A Dance With Kings

by ididntdoit_blameitonthedragon



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Assassin!Yuuri, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kings & Queens, M/M, Neglect, Poor Yuri Plisetsky, Prince!Victor, Prince!Yurio, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-23 01:24:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13776720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ididntdoit_blameitonthedragon/pseuds/ididntdoit_blameitonthedragon
Summary: Victor, a somewhat naive, yet loving Prince of the Kingdom of Rushkia, meets Yuuri, a man who radiate happiness and kindness wherever he goes. At first, perhaps it was curiosity that saw the Prince passing time with the stranger, but as the months pass, it is clear to others there is more than just curiosity and friendship.But is Yuuri truly the man Victor thinks he is. Was it fate that the Prince saved the boy that day, or was it by someone else’s hand that Yuuri ended up in the hands of the Heir to the Rushkia Throne? What is Victor to think, when Yuuri’s secrets are brought to light? Which ones can he believe? Who can he trust?





	A Dance With Kings

**Author's Note:**

> My first Yuri On Ice!!! Fanfiction so, please don't expect anything WOW.  
> Anyways, enjoy. :3

Chapter One

_The world consists of predators and prey. It is the law of nature._  
The rabbit falls prey to the wolf, the wolf is prey to the bear and when the bear dies, his flesh becomes a feast to the birds and the beast of the forest.  
No matter their strength, no matter their size, they are all the same once death comes for them. 

_It is the law of nature._

_Humans abide by the laws too. Whether they know it or not, the Farmer and the Butcher are only the men they are, until a gold coin calls for their death._

Why?  
_That is always the question. Why did the Farmer die? He was a kind man, a gentle man. But to the one that killed him, he was a man who hadn’t paid his debts.  
He was a warning to the Fishmonger, to the Bookkeeper, to the Castle Guard who hides the secrets he sells beyond the border. _

_All men are the same when the return to the Earth._

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Good morning Mother, Father,” Victor said as he entered the Sun Room, taking his place at the table. Perhaps _‘morning’_ wasn’t the appropriate greeting when one looked to the sun, to see it nearly directly above. But Victor wasn’t one for being correct in all manners. Perfection only came for things he loved and adored.

Makkachin settled himself down beside the Prince, back pushed against his master’s legs as maids brought food.  
Victor began eating. He’d skipped breakfast again it seemed, to take Makkachin on a walk of the grounds; a favourite pastime for the pair of them. 

Both the King and Queen greeted their eldest, simple gestures of their heads, but neither thought to strike up conversation.  
The king was busy reading a report from a western Stronghold, between talking in low voices with his Knights: Lord of Kazakh, and Lord of Giacometti. It seemed the _Wild Ones_ across the border weren’t keeping to their lands. More deaths had cropped up in the outlining villages, as well as accounts of stolen livestock and missing persons.  
But talk like that was depressing, and Victor kept himself apart from it. Talk of war, death and border conflicts would tie him down with emotions he didn’t want. It may have been selfish, bratty even, to simply ignore the darkness that plagued his kingdom, gut he did so anyway.  
Once he was King, he’s have no other choice to deal with such situations. For now, his Father could handle them. 

Victor turned to his Mother, to ask her of her morning.  
But the doors to the Sun Room opened before he could.  
All eyes turned to the newcomer. 

“You’re late.” 

Queen Rushkia stood from her seat, finished with her meal. Her eyes remained fixed on her youngest Son; disappointment in her eyes, Unlike Victor, the Queen required perfections in everything. She expected it.  
Expected it of her Sons too, yet no matter how her second child carried himself, it was never good enough. 

“Proper etiquette demands you present _before_ food is served, not as its being cleared away.”  
Prince Yurio bowed his head. “”I’m sorry Mother.”  
“Sorry isn’t good enough. You are supposed to be a Prince. Act like it.” The Queen could snap and stamp her feet as much as she wished, but Yurio would not fight her. Conversations between them were always one-sided.  
_Her,_ with loud voices, boiling anger and narrowed eyes.  
_Him,_ with his head to the floor, never meeting her gaze and the only three words he dared to speak. _“I’m sorry Mother.”_

But without the usual show of theatrics, the Queen left, storming past her son with a face of thunder. 

“Good morning Yurio. Have you finished your studies for today?” Victor didn’t really know how to comfort his brother, when their mother acted as she did, so, as with most things, he simply ignored it.  
“No,” the boy said quietly, taking the seat opposite, petting Makkachin as he passed. “Lilia let me come for Brunch, but I’m to return once I’m finished eating. “His place was set with soup, cold meats and fresh bread. Victor asked for a refill of fresh wine, and they are with light conversation held between them. Nothing with great importance, or any subject that allowed deep conversation.  
Victor tried of course; asking about Yurio’s studies, knowing the young boy rarely had time to do much else than bury himself in book after book, trying to cram all the information into his head. 

“They hate me,” Yurio said quietly, watching the King and his Knights leave abruptly after finishing their food. “Not so.” Because it wasn’t true, Victor was sure.  
Yes, Mother was cold but she was only strict because she wasn’t the best for her sons.  
Father was busy with the Kingdom affairs, busier now, from the lingering fear of the _Wild Ones_ from across the Eastern Border.  
Victor could help, he knew it. He could share the burden, but King Rushkia already had his Knights to help him. _What could Victor do?_

“I’ll speak with Lilia. You can accompany me to the city.”  
At Victor’s words, Yurio’s eyes lit up. “Really Victor? You mean it?”  
“Of course. I’d rather enjoy the company.” 

They finished their meals quickly then. Yurio, unable to hide his joy, rushed off to change into his riding garb, whilst Victor asked for a maid to fetch Madame Lilia to meet him in the courtyard. 

It was warm outside, unusually so for Spring, but no one complained. They appreciated the god weather, making farming and trading more enjoyable away from the bitter winds that usually accompanied the early months of Spring. 

Aria and Agape met them in the front courtyard, saddled and awaiting the Princes. It was almost a daily ritual for Victor to ride Aria across the lands South of the Capital. He enjoyed the freedom the saddle brought, and staying in constant view of the guard outposts, he never needed a soldier escort.  
Although today, it seemed another was intent on joining them for their ride. 

“Prince Victor, So good to see you,” Sir Chris called from his own mount, clicking his heels to take him closer o Rushkia’s heir. “It’s been too long,” Victor agreed, greeting the Knight with a firm handshake. They were childhood friends, and once upon a time, partners. However there was no relationship between Knight and Prince. Only lust and heat that fought back lonely winter nights. 

“Mind if I join you both?” The knight asked, dismissing his entourage of serfs and officials that had travelled from his Western Territory of Giacometti.  
Perhaps the business of the _Wild Ones_ was more serious than Victor initially thought, especially if both sons of Giacometti had been called upon. 

_“Both?”_ Victor asked, wondering just how quickly the gossip spread if Chris, who had only just arrived at the Castle had already learnt of the Prince’s plans.  
The Knight just rolled his eyes, gesturing to the waiting horses. “I didn’t think you’d been both your own and your Brother’s horse for a venture beyond the walls.”  
Chris’s smile softened, a touch of emotion pulling at his tone. “Or maybe it’s best if I don’t come.”  
_“Nonsense!”_

Victor invited Chris himself then, and the Knight knew his friend well enough to accept and avoid pestering. He’d just end up going anyway. And besides, he wanted to catch up with his friend. 

It didn’t take long for the second Prince to join them, followed quickly by a lady in dark purple robes, tight lips and stern eyes. 

“Your Highness.” She spoke clearly, her curtsey perfect as she straightened, nodding to Chris for respectful purposes.  
“Madame Lilia, good morning. Or perhaps afternoon,” Victor added as an afterthought, looking up to the sky and sun hanging overhead. “Either way, it is warm and sunny. A good day for riding.” 

Madame Lilia pursed her lips, nodding at the Prince’s words. She knew his plan, if it was not obvious from Yurio’s horse waiting saddled beside Victor’s own.  
Yet she was no longer his Tutor, and held no authority over him, denouncing him permission to take Yurio from the Castle. Still, she was a stubborn and proud woman, tasked with few responsibilities. Once such responsibility; overseeing Prince Yurio’s education.  
“I was told you asked for me. And am I to believe you are stealing my student from me?”  
“Precisely,” Victor smiled, seemingly oblivious to the hidden message in Madame Lilia’s words. Of course she couldn’t face him openly, no longer able to give him instruction as she would have, had she still been his teacher, but that didn’t mean she didn’t try.  
Be it either the eldest Son’s carefree ways, or the emptiness of his head, he wasn’t deterred by the Lady’s fierceness. 

“The queen has instructed me–”  
“To teach Yurio about governing the country. But I believe it is better to learn firsthand than from books.”  
There wasn’t much Madame Lila could say or do. Yes, Queen Rushkia had instructed her on teaching the Second Prince, and Victor hadn’t given her an order to relieve her student from studying for the day… But Victor was Royalty and she knew she wasn’t about to win this dispute. 

“Very well. I shall inform Her Majesty you have taken over Yurio’s studies for today. Ride safely.” She curtsied again, dismissing herself from their company. 

“I remember when she used to chase us with a can if we acted out,” Chris whispered, shuddering at the memory as Madame Lilia returned to the castle to occupy herself, now that she had lost her student.  
“Yes, and remember when we were only allowed bread and butter after locking her in the broom closet whilst we played.”  
The boys shared their laughter and memories of their own adventures at the age of sixteen. 

Yurio climbed into Agape’s saddle, and once ready, they set out.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The day was warmer than any expected. Yurio was the first to remove his riding cloak, packing it into a saddle bag that had previously held summer fruits and a flask of wine.  
“From a secret admirer?” Chris asked. Yurio turned face, but it was too late. They had already seen the blush, and were determined to tease him.  
Victor, not so much, but he wouldn’t say he _wasn’t_ curious about a potential love interest in his little brother’s life.

“So?” Chris laughed, drawing the word out, as if that would do anything to convince Yurio to enlighten him. “What’s her name?”  
They were riding beside one another now, their horses taking a leisurely walk as they passed into the line of trees close to the forest border. The three horses walked side by side on the dusty path used by farmers and traders alike. There weren’t any on the road, meaning the trio didn’t have to curb their conversation, in case of prying ears. 

“Her name is… _Yuuko_.” Yurio whispered the girls name from embarrassment, but both of his companions caught it regardless. “And… who is she?”  
Yurio side eyes him through his fringe, debating expanding further. It was either that, or the Knight would gossip with the castle staff, and Yuuko might discover of Yurio’s affection towards her.  
Chris wasn’t one for letting things lie. He was an orchestrator of scandalous rumours, sometimes deadly in the art of revenge. Yet both Yurio and Victor knew nothing would come of this conversation. Chris was their friend. 

So Yurio spoke of the handmaid that caught his eye. The girl that had snuck him snacks when Lilia’s back was turned, the softness of her laugh when he pulled a face behind Yaakov’s back…  
“So what are you going to do?”  
“Do?”  
They youngest looked up at Chris, confused that there was a question. “What is there _to do?”_

Chris gasped dramatically, emphasising shock as he pretended to fall off of his horse. Wide eyed, he rounded on the eldest. “Victor, you never taught him?”  
“Taught me what?”  
“The art of _wooing_ a woman.” 

Yurio frowned at the words, looking to his brother accusingly. “What does he mean?” Yet before Victor had a chance to pass responsibilities of teaching Yurio how to flirt onto Chris; a group of voices distracted him. Loud, angry voices, all yelling orders. 

The Prince looked up, catching the sight of a group of men heading towards them. A supply wagon and horses remained further up the road, abandoned as the group chased a younger. Head of black hair, bare arms, bare feet and a face of fear, he ran towards the Rushkia Princes and Knight companion. 

_“Help me!”_

Chris may call it ‘ _A Prince’s Duty,’_ Yurio would call it _‘Idiocy’_ but whatever is was, Victor could not ignore the boy’s cry for help.  
He kicked Aria’s hind, holding tight to the reins as she darted forward. Chris and Yurio followed, only slowing to stop once they were beside the Prince once more, remaining in the saddle as they came between the boy and his pursuers. 

“Explain,” Victor ordered, claiming the airs of Prince once more. He held himself above these men; six in total. They were brutish in nature, dressed simply but retaining leather armour much like soldiers during training.  
The first, or closest, seemed dumb compared to his uncertain band of followers. He, unlike them, failed to recognise his Prince, nor Prince Rushkia’s companions. 

“Stay outta this,” he threatened, his plain features scrunched up in anger. “If you know what’s good fer you, you’ll leave it be,” The man held up a knife, small, rusty, emphasising his threat as he waved it around foolishly. With a flick of his wrist, he motioned his men closer. His lackeys, although sheepish, did as ordered. Only two more held weapons; wooden bludgeons that extended their reach by an extra arm. 

Victor paid them no mind, staring only at the Leader of the Company. “Stand down. Before you stands a Prince of Rushkia.”  
At first, the man scoffed. But then his mind caught up, staring at the clothes, the way in which his opposition carried himself. Perhaps he even caught sight of the Knight’s broadsword, and insignia on his clock, but whatever it was, he decided I best not to force a confrontation. Even if his men outnumbered them, even if one was only a boy.  
The men followed their leaders’ example; three steps back, sheathing their weapons. 

“We want what is ours,” he told the Prince, eyes darting to the boy. Victor’s eyes followed, ghosting over every detail. Dirty clothes clung to his body from water, his unkempt hair covered parts of his, face and neck, but not enough to conceal the rope collar tied there. His hands were bound too, red skin blistering from efforts to slip himself free.  
His feet were bleeding; the consequence of no shoes. The blood was dry in places, showing this treatment was a regular occurrence. 

“Has he stolen from you?”

Victor willed his voice quiet, his words carefully spoken to control his own anger. Chris heard the rage, willing his voice quiet, his words carefully spoken to control his own anger. Chris heard the rage, willing his mount closer, close enough he was able to lay a hand on the Prince’s arm.  
He shook it off. 

“Well?” Victor said, dismounting from his horse, much to his friend’s dismay. Yurio hadn’t noticed. His eyes were glued to the form of the shaking boy behind them, only torn away from a strangled cry. He saw Victor with his own sword under the tip of the man’s chin, the man sprawled on the floor where his feet were unable to keep up in his hasty attempt to retreat. 

“Slavery in all acts, be it ownership of a slave, the selling or purchase of a slave is _forbidden_ in my Kingdom–” Victor readjusted the angle of the blade, forcing the man’s chin up. “– And is punishable by death.” 

Victor shoved his arm forward, watching blood pain the man’s neck.  
He barely lifted his eyes from him, addressing the men that watched their leader’s execution. “Run, or I shall kill you too.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Victor-“  
“Not now Chris,” the Prince said, shutting the Knight down before he could try and lecture him on murder. “I don’t wish to discuss it here. Yurio will be returning and I’d rather forget what just happened until I report to my father.”  
Chris gave a sharp nod, the grimace he wore enough to show that they’d be speaking about it late, whether the Prince wanted to or not.

For now though, they were waiting for Yurio and the guards he was to bring. They needed to clear away the body and find out who he was. That, Victor hoped could be solved by the boy he rescued. 

Huddled on the roadside, keeping his head down, the slave had not spoke other than to offer a _‘thank you’_ to Yurio, who had cut his bonds, offered him his cloak and wine from his flask.  
With that, the boy had collapsed to the roadside and _wept._

“He doesn’t look Rushkian,” Chris observed with a quiet voice, following the Prince’s gaze. “Perhaps smuggled over the border.  
“Perhaps.”  
Victor didn’t continue the conversation. His head was clouded with thoughts to what had passed. Shock, mostly to the account that he had just killed someone. _Murdered someone,_ in a fit of rage that even he didn’t understand. _Where had it come from?_

Victor was not one for anger. He always retained a level-head, always one to order disputes with words rather than violence.  
Even is rage took hold, it never took his mind. He’d excuse himself and calm down with Makkachin or a walk in the gardens. _Never_ violence.  
So why…

“Victor they’re coming.”

Chris had seen the guards first. Four on horse-back, led by the Youngest Rushkian Heir, who raced along the track road, desperate to return to his brother. He had been aware of the possibility of bandits returning, and hadn’t been happy with either Chris or Victor waiting alone. Together was better and the only option to avoid panic, had a citizen stumbled upon a dead body on the road, just a short walk from the Capital’s city walls. 

“My Lord, are you injured?” the Captain of the guard asked. Georgi was always one to worry, as much a drama queen as Chris, yet this time he had reason. “We’re unharmed,” Victor said, raising a hand to quell Georgi’s growing fears. “Did you bring a horse for the boy?”  
They all turned then, to look at the slave. Yurio was with him once more, hands holding arms, forcing the rope burns to the sky to assess the damage. They looked worse now that the rope had been removed, but the boy was grateful, even if he refused to meet anyone’s eye. 

“We came before the cart. He can ride in that.”  
“Beside the dead body? I think not!” Victor looked between boy and brother, his mind made up. “He’ll ride with me. Christ, stay here and take charge. Yurio and I will return to the castle,” he added before anyone could question him.  
“We’ll have two guard accompany us, and once back at the castle, I’ll send more men,, I want the others tracked down and arrested for questioning. How did they come about this boy, what were they planning to do with him and _if selling,_ then I want to know the possible buyers as well.” 

Victor knelt beside his brother, looking at the boy rather than his burns and the mistreatment that plagued his fair skin. “Yurio, we’re heading back. Saddle up.” They younger did as he was asked, leaving Victor to coax the boy to stand. “You’re safe now,” Victor lulled, gently taking one hand. “Can you stand?” The boy nodded, letting Victor pull him closer, leading him to where Aria had been grazing on the roadside. “We’re going back now?”  
“Back? I don’ want to go back!” 

It was the first the boy spoke, voice contorted with horror as he wrenched his hands’ from Victor’s crying out where nails scraped over open flesh. He stumbled back, into the waiting arms of Chris, who caught him before his weak legs gave out underneath him. The boy made to run from him too, but the Knight’s voice was soft and comforting. “He means to the castle. You will never have to go back to that hell.” 

Chris’s words calmed him. Victor held out his hand once more. The boy, his eyes finally meeting Victor’s own, took it with almost the ghost of a smile. His grip was stronger this time, steps larger. He wasn’t able to pull himself into Aria’s saddle without help from the guards, but once seated, he didn’t look as timid. As fragile.  
Victor climbed on behind him and following the delegating of orders, set off for the castle. 

“Thank you.” The word was so quiet Victor almost missed it. He readjusted himself in the saddle, not sure if he was meant to continue. But considering the boy had whispered his gratitude, perhaps waiting until they could speak openly.  
So Victor closed his mouth and focused on keeping Aria’s gait smooth.

**Author's Note:**

> So... Any good?


End file.
